


Lost and Found

by Sylla_Headhunter



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, I am a virtual mess, I don't know where it goes, Just bear with me please, Lotor is not the bad guy everyone says he is, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Temporary Amnesia, This started out as a wild idea, canon divergence - Post Season 6, might change some tags and/or characters, no beta we die like gaysaster always do - with a bang, redemption arc for Lotor, well at least partly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-13 13:41:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20583422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sylla_Headhunter/pseuds/Sylla_Headhunter
Summary: Team Voltron managed to escape from the quintessence just before it corrupted them too much themselves but Lotor is trapped inside with no way out. As the Team sends in the castle of Lions to seal the various rifts that could have very well destroyed every single universe in existence. And so the new Galra Emperor died - or did he? What if the blast instead carried him out of harm's way, to wander the universe as alone as he ever was, with no knowlegde of himself other than "This headache is killing me"? Meanwhile Team Voltron tries to find their way back to earth but somehow, all communications are down and with five exhausted lions and no way to charge them up, their quest seems almost hopeless ...





	1. A painful awakening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, look guys. This is my first fic on Voltron like ever, my first fic to probably be waaay longer than just a simple One Shot AND my first fic in english. So many firsts, look at me, the fanfiction virgin!  
*ahem* Getting off of track here. Moving on!  
A friend of mine told me about Lotor and how much she liked and understood him even though he was so corrupted in the end and I have to say I agree. I, too, didn't like what I found of him once I started reading some (really awesome tho!) fics in this Fandom - he's always made to be the jerkiest of jerks, way worse than he was in canon? So I thought - why not write something where he at least gets some sort of chance? He's not a good guy, guys. But he's not Evil Incarnate.
> 
> Anyway, please don't kill me for this and PLEASE be patient. I will try to upload at least once a week but I promise nothing.
> 
> Well. Here goes

His head felt like a nuclear sun just had exploded behind his eyes and had purposefully blinded him into oblivion. Groaning, he reached up to it and flinched back as the sensation somehow multiplied, leaving him reeling and ready to throw up whatever was left in his stomach.

Did he even have a stomach?

_Nonsense. What am I thinking? Of course I have a stomach, seeing as I am currently regurgitating – well, something out of it._

Scrambling, he tried to pull himself upright, and sank right back again, as the nuclear sun expanded into a whole galaxy behind his eyes. His vision swam and his mouth suddenly felt too dry to even swallow back his own spit.

Where was he? What had happened?

He remembered something – a flash of light, yellow and too bright against his eyes, splotches of purple and blue in between and then … nothing, as if said vision had hit him over the head with an iron club.

The idea wasn’t so far off, actually, now that he thought about it, considering his current state.

He blinked – once, twice. The blur in front of his eyes started to finally fade away into some sort of ephemeral glow all around him that illuminated a whole lot of -

“Nothing.”  
His own voice scratched like a frozen record in his ears and he almost jumped out of his skin. The headache returned and made him croak like a bullet frog. By all that was holy, he was a wreck! He couldn’t even listen to his voice without almost nuking himself in the process, apparently.

He shut his eyes and tried to calm himself by listening to his own stuttering heartbeat even out slightly. The light was just dim enough to not let him see red through his closed eyelids and he actually found himself calming down significantly. Unfortunately, he couldn’t say the same about his head, just his state of mind. The sun still managed to burn through his synapses at a constant pace of misery.

“Nothing I can do anything about right now”, he murmured to himself, somehow quite liking the fact that he could hear his own voice. It made the whole thing more _real, _as if the headache – or more like the head explosion he was currently going through – wasn’t enough to convince him that this place was real. That he was real.

“Something must have fried my braincells real hard to be thinking this.” His vocal chords tried to make him sigh but he more or less just heaved a dry cough and felt whatever his stomach had thrown up earlier trickle down his lips. He wiped them in disgust and slowly opened his eyes again, blinking at his fingers. Whatever is was, it didn’t look great – in fact, it looked slimy and purplish, with a wicked gleam to it. Worry pinched his heart, _hard._

“Great. I am somewhere I don’t recognise, I can’t move and I am leaking something that looks an awful lot like poison, apparently.” He tried to chuckle but ended up coughing up more of the sickly looking fluid. It tasted like poison as well – or whatever he imagined poison to taste like because how would he be able to know what it actually tasted like?  
_Oh, you know._

His stomach tightened around his aching middle like a coiled rope. There was something he was missing – something vitally important, something lost in the haze that had become his mind, frazzled at the edges like an old carpet too worn to be used any more. Something … something he couldn’t recall, no matter how hard he thought about it. It just slipped through his searching fingers, as if it were made of water.

He cursed under his breath and tried something else. Maybe whatever it was would come back eventually – he just had to stop thinking about it constantly and it would pop right back where it belonged. And chase the nuclear warhead away that still rested behind his eyes. For now, he had to focus on something else – something probably equally important.

The question of _Where in the ever loving fuck am I?_

_Utilise your brain. _

He had already tried that – it had resulted in a headache the size of a war ship. This place, as far as he could tell, was just empty. Ethereal light floated everywhere and he floated as well …

He startled.

He didn’t float.

As a matter of fact, nothing floated around him – the light rather fell from somewhere far above him. He was not in empty space.

“This is a cave.”  
_Genius-brain._

Speaking out loud made his head ring again but the words were comforting somehow – a sign that he was at least conscious enough to be able to talk. His Broca’s area at least seemed to be unaffected by the horrendous pain his head was in otherwise – he could effectively rule out a concussion at this point. Wonderful. Although … something was still missing. Again.

He sighed and tried moving again. The nuclear war head imploded and embedded itself further into his brain but he gritted his teeth and snarled through it until his body was finally upright again, his hands clammy with sweat as he pawed feebly around himself. His fingertips brushed over cold stone and he gripped it instinctively, fearing that he would drop down again if he let go or, worst case scenario, didn’t get his hands on it at all.

_Deep breaths. Calm yourself._

He panted through his teeth and tried to unclench his cramped jaws, cold air whistling in and out over his tongue coated with a sweet bitterness. Probably the weird purple glowy stuff he had vomited a few doboshes earlier. Or maybe it had already been a varga? Two vargas? He had no idea. The light hadn’t changed at least but that was definitely not a good way to measure time. He didn’t even know if this place had any sort of solar or even lunar cycle. If it even had a moon or sun. He should have probably called it “Light cycle”. The idea made him snort and searing pain shot through his head, making him cry out and suddenly redoubling. Keening, he grabbed on to the smooth surface next to him and tried his hardest not to fall down again.

“No snorting. Or laughing. Or anything.” The words just fell out of his mouth, as if he was vomiting them out, and the thought wanted to pry another weak laugh from his equally weak mind. Apparently getting stranded in a glow of light and a cave had made his brain short circuit and his sense of humour die along with whatever braincells he had possessed prior.

He froze as those words formed themselves inside of him.

That.

That was what he had been missing. He had been working on instinct mostly, ever since he woke up in this place, wherever it was, so it had kept on escaping his exhausted mind, but apparently standing upright made some sort of difference while thinking.

He did not only not know where he was or why.

He had no knowledge of getting here – wherever here was. He had no knowledge how he would have reacted, could only deduce his little reactions as time went on.

Because somehow, in a way he _also _couldn’t remember, he had forgotten everything about himself as well.

What had been missing hadn’t been a piece of information. It had been he himself.

He almost sank to his knees again as it hit him. He didn’t even know his _name! _He was just a nobody, as much to himself as to anyone else he might have found here – if there even was any sort of intelligent life force here with him. Another thing he didn’t know.

“Breathe”, he murmured to himself, his voice ragged. “Breathe. Panic is not helpful in this kind of situation.”  
He needed to sort his priorities. A name would not do him any good at this point – names did not heal a throbbing head, they didn’t bring food and water to someone stranded in the middle of no where and they most certainly didn’t help in getting out of a mysterious hole. Priorities.

“Get out of here.”  
He would have to figure out the h_ow _on the way.


	2. Unexpected Encounter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, do not get used to me uploading every day, for the love of God. Please. This just so happened to pop into my head, so I wrote it down and that's how I'm gonna roll, nothing else x'D  
Anyway, hope you enjoy! Lotor's amnesia's not going to go away any time soon but I still hope I manage to stay in character. Please tell me if I don't!
> 
> Also, I decided to add Klance to the mix as well. Keep in mind that it's not going to be a big focus point or anything, I just really like this ship and want to explore it a bit for myself once we get to some actual Team Voltron chapters. Cheerio~

The cave wasn’t as big as he had believed at first. In fact, it was rather small. Even more in fact, it was a hole in the ground, slightly big enough for him to be standing in it and not hitting his head against the ceiling. Which wasn’t a ceiling but rather open space.

“This is a pitfall, isn’t it?” His voice sounded tired and bemused at once, now that he thought about it. Apparently, he was getting on his own nerves with the amount of time he needed to sort through his surroundings. He squinted into the light falling down towards him and waited until his eyes had adjusted to the brightness. It was, in fact, a pitfall, or at least a crater without any sort of ceiling and he was standing smack in the middle of it. The wall behind him had been solid to his grasp because some sort of strange material covered it all the way down to where he could make out a shallow indentation his body had left behind. The wall in front of him, however, seemed to be made of a mixture of clay and sand, barely holding itself together as it was.

As of now, that was his only way out – climbing on a wall that seemed to fall apart with every labored breath he could manage, his hands shaking at the thought of it. Oh, he was already regretting every life choice he must have made to end up in this place.

“No use crying over fallen stars”, he reminded himself and wobbled on shaky legs to the monstrosity he was about to climb and probably fall down again multiple times. His hands gripped the soft stone in front of him – and passed right through it.

He cursed under his breath, and tried again. This time, his fingers found a tougher spot he couldn’t crumble into wet powder and he began to dig a curved hole in the stone to form a handhold.

Oh, this was going to take a long time …

***

If he was never going to see clay in his life again, it would still be too soon. His fingertips ached as if he had dipped them into boiling acid and the dark smudges travelled up to his shoulders which were achingly sore. And his nails looked black, their edges torn and splintered, one of them almost missing completely, he noted with disgust. He would have to clean them later – once he got out of this hole he had put himself into at some point in his life. He would have to clean all of himself, he corrected, as red powder got into his nose again, making it itch. He almost sneezed himself off the wall.

“Hold on. Just a bit … longer …”  
He didn’t even notice how he panted those words out loud as he finally, finally, thank every being in this universe, dragged himself the last missing inches and collapsed in a tangle of dead limbs and matted hair in the dirt. His eyes closed themselves almost involuntarily. Just a moment of rest … one moment …

He was asleep before he even noticed his breath evening out, the dirt and his itching limbs forgotten, as exhaustion claimed him once again as their own.

***

A small shadow flitted across his closed eyelids, making him groan. Something was here – something apart from him and the eternal light that no one apparently remembered to shut off from time to time. His thoughts still hazy, swirling with half forgotten dreams and memories, he managed to open his eyes, blinking into a different pair of eyes. More precisely, _one _eye and one black vortex, complete with a reddish scar across it like a burning bridge.

“Uh ...”  
The eye blinked and the small shadow came back. It was, in fact, a stick-like something the eye had been poking him with.

_Eyes do not poke. Wake up, idiot!_

He scrambled to his knees – or rather tried to, failing miserably at the task. Groaning, he sank back and landed on his ass. A sharp pain shot through his spine until it met with his head and ignited his pain anew. His mouth, apparently not under his supervision any more, uttered a string of curse words.

“Impressive.”  
The voice was low and gravelly, not much different from his own. Quiet hostility simmered in it like forgotten embers, ready to start a wildfire and he wondered for a moment if he had done something in his sleep. He could not remember (what else was new?). He peeled his watering eyes from the ground, finally taking in more than just one eye.

The person in front of him was smaller than he was, that much he could tell. She – he deduced as much from her curves and the fact that she wore something at least resembling clothes over her breasts, covering her up just a tad more than a man would probably have done it – had green skin flecked with black that he saw way too much of, and ears that looked like a bat’s wing, the membrane see-through like a leaf. Her legs and arms were absurdly long, as were her fingers, and her one eye that had been staring at him the whole time – and was still staring at him, he noted absent-mindedly – was big enough to seemingly cover one half of her face. Its white was tinged with red, as if she was fighting some sort of allergy, the iris stark purple against it.

“You done looking?”  
He blinked and tried to compose himself – a rather difficult task when sitting on one’s bottom and staring up to an almost naked stranger but he had to make due somehow.

“Yes, actually. Might I ask who you are?”  
She crossed her arms, giving her the look of a praying mantis.  
“Go ahead.”  
He waited a few ticks.

She still looked at him with her one eye.

This was not going according to plan.

“You were supposed to answer that.”  
“Oh, well, excuse me, where are my manners? Oh, right. Must have left them in my cell.” Her words seemed to drip deadly acid. He blinked again.

“This is not a cell.”  
It wasn’t, was it? He would know …

Actually, he wouldn’t. Her appearance had made him, ironically, forget about his amnesia. He sighed and tried getting up once more. She regarded him warily, as he wobbled to his feet and concentrated on not vomiting up his guts and the assumed poison again. Miraculously, it worked.

Oh, yes. This was way better. He could see now that she was in fact very much smaller than him, only reaching up to about his elbow. _She _seemed to realize that as well because he saw her backing up even more, her lips drawn back into a snarl.

“I am not here to hurt you”, he tried, the words clumsy. Had he ever tried to reassure someone else?  
She looked even more sceptical.

“Yeah, sure, and I’m a Balmera.”  
“You do not resemble a giant beast. More like a tiny one.”  
Her cheeks puffed up like a blowfish.  
“Well excuse me Mr. Head-in-the-Clouds, not everyone can be as tall as a mountain. Some of us needed their growth spurt elsewhere. In here for example!” She prodded her own head with a sharp finger. The image alone made his head hurt again.

“Fine, fine.” He held up his hand, surrendering. “I apologize. Now, can you tell me where we are here?”  
“No.”  
A vein started to twitch on his forehead. His headache worsened again.

“Why not?”, he ground out, his voice containing not enough patience to save his life. She snarled, a warning gleam in her eye.

“’Cause I don’t know it.”  
“Fine.”  
“Actually no, it’s not but that’s another story.”  
“It’s just an expression!”  
He pressed a hand to his head. Yelling made the pain so much worse. So, so much worse. He tried concentrating on his breathing but something even got in his way of that.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”  
“’Cause you look like shit.”  
Her bluntness was not something he appreciated at this particular moment.

“I feel like it, too”, he snarled back. “No need to remind me.”  
“I don’t feel the particular _need _to do that, just a certain _want _if you catch my meaning ...”  
He tried to let his headache drone out her voice. It worked at least partially, her words now slurring themselves together until she seemed to realize what he was doing because her mouth closed abruptly and her hand clenched around her stick. Which wasn’t a stick at all, he finally realized, but some sort of metal rod she was brandishing like a weapon.

And currently poking him with.

He growled. “What in the name of universe do you think you’re doing?”  
She snarled right back, crashing her sharp teeth together. “I was asking you if there were more of _your kind_, ass hat. How about you answer me?”  
“You haven’t answered any of my questions either.” He didn’t know exactly where that sort of temper was coming from but he was pissed, his anger boiling inside his guts. Or maybe it was the poison again? At this point, he wasn’t so sure of anything in his current life situation.

“Yeah, that's ‘cause your questions are stupid. I don’t speak stupid.”  
The unexpected retort made him snort in amused surprise, resulting in even more pain flavouring his brain like a spice-loving cook his chilli. Her composure slackened just slightly, apparently taken as much by surprise by his laughter as he was.

“My apologies”, he managed to croak, his eyes finally not watering again. “I don’t know if there is anyone here besides me and, well, you. Whoever you are.”  
Her shoulders relaxed just a bit.

“Fine. I will choose to believe you just this time.”  
She eyed him warily for a few ticks.

“And the name’s Azul.”


	3. The Last of the Juwelians

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, look. I know I said to not expect anything and I mean it! This chapter just kept on flowing out of me, I have no idea why. Just... just take it and enjoy, or something xD
> 
> I added a new species to the Voltron Universe because why not. You will learn more about them as this fic goes on, hopefully! 
> 
> Also, next chapter is probably going to be Team Voltron, so stay tuned for that!

_Azul … huh?  
_ The name was like nothing he had ever heard of. Not that that was anything new to him at this point – he was actually impressed that his consciousness had remembered so many curse words. By the stars, he was glad he could talk at all! He could have just as easily gone mute or maybe worse, he could have forgotten  _how _ to speak, rendering him incapable of doing anything. The thought alone made him shudder with disgust.

Azuls ey e narrowed and he felt his disgust mix with impatience.

“I know you don’t like me but is this really necessary?”  
She continued to stare him down and he felt his right eyelid twitch annoyingly rapid.

“Look, we are strangers to each other, are we not? You could at least have some common manners and –“  
She laughed. Well, it was more of a dry cough that reminded him of his own laughter, really, but it was more of a reaction than he had gotten the last time, so there was that.

“Why would anyone bother with common manners, you dimwit? ‘sides, I told you my name, isn’t that what you wanted all along, Pretty Boy?”  
Pretty Boy? His eyebrows rose.

“You do seem to possess some taste after all.”  
She huffed. “Sarcasm is my one and only friend. And since you haven’t given me _your _name, I have to resort to name calling. Not that I would care about your name, anyway, but that’s just how it is.”  
He felt as if she had just hit his head – except he knew it was only a matter of speech. If she had actually hit him, he would not have survived it in his state, judging by the waves of nausea that still plagued him.

“I don’t have a name.”  
Azul snorted. “Yeah, right, Pretty Boy. You like it when I call you that?”  
“I do not!”  
“Because it reminds you of how absolutely _not _pretty you are in this precise moment?”  
“That is not the point!”  
He managed a deep breath. This woman … pressing his hand to the bridge of his nose, he made another attempt at communicating the essence of his problems.

“I do not remember my name, nor why I am here or how I came to this … place.”  
Silence. 

Uncharacteristic silence, judging by what he knew about Azul at this point. Her eye had widened slightly. He was about to continue talking – about what he had no idea – when her mouth finally opened again and a low laugh escaped from it. He bristled.

“This is no laughing matter! I am serious here!”  
Azul shook her head, snorting again, but her face remained rigid, somehow, as if she wasn’t sure what to do with it.

“So you’re telling me that I am sitting right here, in this shit hole, with a Galra and he doesn’t remember anything? Just my luck, huh?”

A … what now? The word seemed familiar somehow, as if it was something he had heard a long, long time ago but thinking about it made his head swim in a sea of pain and his eyes watered, as if said ocean needed to get out of him somehow. Azul didn’t seem to notice.

“This is some kind of sick joke, right? Huh, are you laughing at me now?!”  
Her voice made his ears ring. A trickle of … something escaped his mouth and the bad taste on his tongue intensified by a thousandfold. The poison again? So it wasn’t out of his system yet. Great. Why wasn’t he dead then?  
“If you could possibly … turn it down a bit … I would appreciate it immensely”, he managed to croak. Azul blinked and something extinguished in her eyes, as if he had doused her with the sea currently growing behind his frontal bone. He found himself feeling oddly ashamed at that. Whatever it was that currently resided in his system, it apparently turned him into a giant sap. He wasn’t too fond of that discovery.

“Why should I do anything a Galra appreciates?” Her voice cut through his thoughts like a laser beam and he winced.

“I honestly have no idea, none why you should be doing it nor what a Galra is to you. Or is in general.” He took a deep breath and tried to steady himself on his feet. Azuls figure seemed to dissolve in front of his eyes, her edges already blurred enough that he didn’t realize she had moved until he felt her metal rod prod against his rips again. 

“You gonna die on me or what?”, she asked and he tried to imagine that she was concerned about his well being. He failed miserably.

“I am trying not to”, he panted through gritted teeth. “I am also trying not to fall down again because I might not get up this time.”  
Azuls brow creased.

“Sounds like you should probably get some rest, y’know?”, she retorted. He snorted and watched, fascinated, as his world dissolved into coloured stars, his knees buckling under his weight. 

_Oh, this is going to … _

His head burned out like an overheated light bulb before he could even finish thinking his last sentence.

***

His senses exploded in a flurry of light and movement and wrenched a dry cough from his chapped lips, coating his tongue in bittersweet nothingness. He was alive – somehow. He wasn’t that uncomfortable, actually. In fact, there was something soft and squishy underneath his head, effectively shielding it from the hard ground and keeping his hair relatively clean and even though his throat felt raw as if he had screamed himself hoarse just a while ago, he didn’t feel thirsty.

Interesting.

“You still alive?”  
Something tapped his right shoulder and made him jump slightly, and he creased his brow, accepting the death blow this would deal to his head.

Nothing happened.

_Huh._

Now that was _really _intriguing.

His eyes, somehow not watering again, fell on the slight figure sitting next to him – well, as far away as she was apparently comfortable to sit without jumping away or slitting his throat. Her feet and arms were crossed in front of her, as if she expected him to jump her any second.

“Well?”  
He blinked.

“Apparently?” His own voice sounded weak and rough in his own ears and he winced slightly. Azul threw something in his general direction and managed to hit him squarely in the chest, effectively pressing the air out of his lungs. He wheezed.

“What was that for?!”  
“Generally speaking, water is used for getting us a nice drink”, she replied, her voice flat. He blinked again.

“You’re giving me water?”  
“I threw water at you”, she corrected with a razor-sharp grin.

“And you …”  
“And me gave you a pillow, yes. I didn’t want to see your head crack like an overgrown purple raisin, so ...” She shrugged and unfolded her arms to waggle her fingers at him. “See? No purple goo. You’re fine. Probably. I’m no doctor, I might add.”  


She had given him water, was currently waiting for him to drink from it and she had taken care of him to an extend. His eyes narrowed.

“There is something you want from me, isn’t there?”  
Azul snorted. “’sides from you leaving me alone? Not really?”  
He shook his head, careful at first but with more vigour as it didn’t explode this time. The consistent headache had receded to a quiet, but determined, rapping inside of his skull but that he could safely ignore.

“You took care of me, to a certain degree. I might be an amnesiac but I am by no means stupid. Tell me what you want, if it is not my death – or at least my disappearance.”  
Something flitted through the depth of her eye – something he couldn’t quite place, an emotion he was not too familiar with. Her gaze had softened slightly, giving her a gentler look somehow, contrary to her words cutting her tongue almost every time she opened her mouth.

“I want nothing from you, okay? Just leave it at that.”  
“But ...”  
Her lips thinned. “Leave it or I’ll shove my hand down your throat and let you taste your teeth.”  
He left it.

The silence evolved as the rapping inside his head grew even quieter, folding space around them until he had the feeling they were both sitting in some sort of undisturbed bubble, surrounded by nothingness. Her eye had left him, although it still flitted back from time to time to regard him with shrewd intensity. Oh, she did not trust him as far as she could throw him. Which made her staying an even greater mystery, one he wanted to unravel. What was her ulterior motive? Considering that he was apparently part of a race she hated for whatever reason, it could not have a beneficial one for him. But killing him would have been easy, too easy. Maybe she wanted to see him suffer?

“Y’know, you’re really starting to make my skin itch”, she complained, finally meeting his gaze head-on again. “Can you not?”  
“Can I not what?” He stared back, not daring to blink. She huffed.

“Look, I could have killed you earlier ago, m’kay? Could have blown out your candle for good. I didn’t. Which means you get a free pass until you try something funny like killing _me, _for example. We good, shit brain?”  
_Shit brain?_

“Excuse me?” His voice dripped with indignation and her grin appeared again, sharp and full of teeth.

“Shit brain. Y’know, ‘cause you can’t remember shit. What, you like “Pretty Boy” more or something?”  
He most certainly did but he was not going to tell her _that. _Judging by her smile, she already suspected it or was waiting for exactly that – and he was not going to crack that easily.

“I suppose it’s at least consistent”, he grumbled instead, and watched with a small, satisfied smile as her own one died out. She snarled at him, but it was a half-hearted one, not even remotely comparable to the one from when she had truly been hostile.

It was strange.

“Okay, fine, how about _Rushar_, Shit Brain? Sound good to you?”  
It sounded _familiar, _that’s what it did. He wrinkled his nose. Almost as familiar as “Galra” had done – had he heard it somewhere before? Azul snapped her fingers under his nose, startling him again.

“Oi, Rushar, you listening?”  
“I am listening, you barbarian! Were you trying to hurtle my synapses into open space?”, he snapped back, unable to contain his simmering anger at how her action had effectively shattered his though process into nothingness. He had been so close! So close to something …!  


_Ah._

“You are a Juwelian.”  
Azuls grin vanished in an instant and she leapt to her feet, scurrying about three feet away from him.

“I thought you didn’t remember anything”, she growled, her eye an angry red slit. “That’s pretty specific and all for a nameless person, you know?”  
“I don’t know why I know that”, he retorted, blinking frantically. It had worked! Something had come back from wherever his brain was currently residing! Now if he could just remember _more …_

“Maybe whatever happened to me is wearing off? I have no idea, believe me.”  
Azul remained standing but she at least lowered her arms a bit, her eye still searching through his face as if she was waiting for something. Anything. Probably any sign that he was about to attack her.

“If you mess with me …!”  
“I swear, I am not. I couldn’t make this up to save my life.”  
She growled again and plopped down where she had been standing, her shoulders rigid with something he couldn’t entirely decipher. Fright? Anger? Maybe both?  
“So … you are a Juwelian?”  
Azul glanced at him again, her eye flickering, until she finally nodded and let her shoulders slump purposefully. He didn’t doubt she could still be up and about in an instance, either bringing distance between him and herself or attacking him. It took all his willpower to remain as calm as he did absolutely not feel.

“I am, yeah. The last one, probably.”  
“The last one?”  
“Did you turn into a parrot? Yes. The Last One. Uppercase letters on both of ‘em. My race died out because yours didn’t like us.”  
Something settled in his stomach, something achingly hard and sharp, digging into him like a knife in his gut. He knew that story, somehow. Not hers, certainly not, but it resonated in him as if she had hit a great gong, a sad note pouring from it through his veins.

“You really don’t have to say anything about that, y’know? Closing your mouth and wallowing in silence is going to make you look so much more intelligent than you truly are.”  
He blinked and snapped his mouth shut so hard, his teeth clinked together. She chuckled, the sound someone ragged but truly amused. It felt strange, hearing something like that from her, without the harshness that seemed to surround her in every living moment. It felt strange listening to it, no matter her usual taste in humour, he decided.

“It must be hard”, he finally managed. Azul just shrugged.

“Eh. Sometimes. You learn to live with it.”  
He wanted to say something else, he realized, not knowing what it would be once it left his mouth. This feeling, strange and overwhelming, was going to cost him his sanity. Azul scratched herself under her chin.

“Look, just shut up about it. The only thing I want is my peace from you people, that’s all. I’ll kill you if you try to kill me or bring me back there, otherwise … eh, I’m not exactly fine with you, but I won’t be in your way. Sound good enough?”  
She had helped him even though his race had led hers to its doom. She made less and less sense and he felt himself wishing back for his headache. At least that feeling had been understandable.

“I do not harbour hostile will towards you.”  
Azul grinned, her teeth glinting in the everlasting light around them.

“That’s good to hear. For your own health, Rushar.”  
“What is that even supposed to mean.”  
Her grin split her whole face in half.

“Shit Brain.”

Maybe he would have to rethink his promise about not harbouring hostile will towards her.


	4. Please respond

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep telling you guys to not expect anything and yet I have uploaded four chapters in two days.
> 
> I'm really just doing to myself, aren't I?
> 
> Anyways, enjoy! The first chapter with Team Voltron and I really, really dreaded writing all of them AT ONCE so I kinda just settled for some soft Klance moments or something like that. Hope you like it!

“This is Pidge, Paladin of the Green Lion, please respond.”

“Earth, please respond. We are trapped and can only travel so far, our lions are at their limit. Over.”

“Dad? Are you there?”

“...please. Just … answer me ...”

The wind had changed, picking up its pace and hitting him with a mouthful of space dust, muffling Lance’s curse words as he trudged through layers and layers of nothingness. He had no idea how long he had been out here – how long they had been here at all, resting on a quiet and godforsaken planet Hunk had picked up on with the Yellow Lion. It had no sun and thus no way of measuring time without at least some sort of, well, clock. Which they didn’t have.   
They had a whole lot of nothing left, really.

The Blue Paladin sighed through his nose and scratched the nape of his neck. Restlessness consumed him, again, and it brought his temper back, as it usually did. He was Lance! He was supposed to make stupid jokes and exasperate everyone on this tiny ass planet as much as possible. Keith was the loner, the one with anger management issues, not him. He had a role to play and by God, he wanted to play it so badly it hurt sometimes. But the only thing he could think of at this moment was home. And their long way until they would finally reach it again.

He kicked at a little pebble and watched it bounce of his foot, clinking against some larger rocks embedded in the soot in front of him.

“Stupid Lotor. Stupid plan, stupid Quintessence, stupid everything”, he muttered under his breath. “We could be on our way back right this moment if it weren’t for this crazy son of a biscuit, I swear …”  
But they weren’t. They were stranded somewhere in the universe, they couldn’t contact anyone and their lions were as exhausted as their Paladins – or maybe even more so. Everyone was on edge or simply not responding to anything. In fact, the only one that seemed to take rather calmly to all of this without losing their mind, was Keith and _that _ was probably due to the fact that Lance had never been able to truly read the bastard. Even Shiro seemed more like an empty battery than a human being.

_We’re done for if we have to stay like this forever._

He didn’t like the way that thought kept worming itself into his thoughts. They wouldn’t need to stay forever, just long enough for their lions to recharge a bit. Just long enough for Pidge to send out another distress call through her Lion. Just long enough …

Too long. Lance gritted his teeth and stomped on, his feet leaving large, angry footsteps all over the place. Oh, he was so done with all of this! Everything sucked!

“I hate this!” His voice echoed off some rock formations nearby and nearly made him jump. He _did _jump at the clearly shaken head popping out from behind them though, black hair more dishevelled than ever.

Shit. Shit. _Shit._

  
“Lance … what the-”  
  
He waved his hand in an exaggerated motion and grinned at the (larger, why was he larger, this was so weird) person in front of him.

“I mean, don’t you hate it, too, when your shoe just fills and fills with space dust from another dimension or something? It’s the worst.”  
Keith regarded him with a blank gaze. “Uh. I guess?”, he offered back, his voice clearly confused. Lance nodded and perched himself precariously on top of the spiky rock Keith had taken cover under.

“It’s the _worst. _And don’t get me started on the atmosphere here! It’s like something died here, it’s giving me the serious heebie jeebies, y’know?”  
Keith apparently did not know. His eyes stayed as understanding as ever and Lance sighed through his nose.

“C’mon, man, I know you’re supposed to be the emo type and all but you _gotta _have some vocabulary in that mullet head of yours.”  
“Well, not everyone has exactly zero space for anything except words and themselves”, Keith retorted, almost automatically. Lance pressed his hand to his chest and heaved a dramatic sigh.

“Oh, you have wounded me! Terribly, might I add, I will die now.”  
Keiths lips twitched, just a bit.

“You’re an idiot.”  
  
It sounded so much more like him that Lance just grinned down at him and shrugged.

“I mean, at least I know it, right?”  
Keith just huffed an impatient breath in return. Silence began so settle in again but somehow, Lance didn’t mind it as much as before. It seemed less … tense, as if Keith was finally breathing again properly. Or maybe he himself was calmer now, settled down just a tad more? He couldn’t tell but this was … this was nice.

Although the silence still began to bother him about three ticks later. He balanced his head on his knees and peered down to Keith, whose head was leaned against the rock Lance was sitting on, his face unreadable again. He hadn’t had a chance to talk to Keith after everything that had happened – none of them really had. He looked different. Taller, yes – although Lance took quite some pride in the fact that he was still the taller one of them two – but there was something else, some quiet reassurance in his shoulders, as if some great weight had fallen off his shoulders somewhere on his mission. He seemed … at ease with himself. Somehow.

“So … Krolia. She’s really your mum, huh?”

Keith shuffled with his feet, his gaze locked on to them. “Seems like it.”  
Talking to him was still hard as ever, though. At least _that _part hadn’t changed.

“She’s pretty, y’know. In some sort of warrior fierce battle ready kinda way.”  
“Are you hitting on my mother?” One of his eyebrows vanished under his mop of black hair. Lance grinned.

“Why, getting uncomfortable?”  
“Quite. Please stop.”  
Lance chuckled and shifted his weight to his left leg.

“Aw, come on, man, let me have some fun.”  
“Not with my mother. That’s disgusting, Lance.”  
Lance just grinned innocently back and let his head settle on his knees. Talking with Keith was … comfortable right now. He had no idea why exactly – maybe because he wasn’t so visibly shaken up about everything? Not like Pidge, who spent most of her time in her cockpit, trying to reach her father and earth somehow. Not like Hunk, who was clearly trying his best to appear fine but wasn’t – not without his favourite therapy, which always resulted in way too many cookies for everyone. Not like Allura, who – and who could blame her, really – hadn’t gotten over her shock at Lotor’s betrayal. Not like Shiro, who _seemed _fine, sometimes, when you didn’t look for the edges in his face, the smudged blackness under his eyes.

Keith was just … fine. Somehow. Even the new scar across his face did little to disturb it, rather adding a fierce look to it he enjoyed …

Lance blinked. Once, twice.

What in the quiznak was he thinking about right now?! He was most certainly _not _enjoying Keith’s face, thank you very much …?!

“You okay up there?”  
Lance startled, almost falling off his rock.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine”, he murmured. “Why? Missing my babbling already, I was just quiet for like three ticks or something.”  
Keith snorted. “I don’t miss it. Just checking. A lot happened those last few days.”  
_It happened to you, too._

“Yeah. I know. But hey, we get to go home, that’s something, right?” He just let his mouth take over, as always when he himself didn’t have a lot of actual ideas in his head. Keith shrugged.

“Sure.”  
“You sound thrilled, you know that?”  
“Harhar. Very funny.”  
Lance snorted. “You know, you almost had me there. Almost believed the great Keith cared about going home just a teeny, weeny bit -”  
“I do care.”  
Lance blinked. He hadn’t expected an answer, if he was being completely honest with himself.

“Oh yeah?”  
“Sure. I grew up on it, too, you know?”  
Oh, he knew. He knew a lot about Keith, enough to make him wonder why he wasn’t convinced right now.

“Of course I know. _I _don’t claim to have forgotten about your days at the garrison. That’s entirely on _you, _mullet head.”  
No answer this time. Lance glanced down and froze, his eyes wide and confused. Keiths head had fallen back, his eyes closed and his chest rising and falling evenly. He was actually _sleeping, _just like that, his body snuggled closer to the rock as if it was giving him comfort.

He looked entirely too vulnerable for Lance’s taste.


	5. "I'm fine"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. I kinda... uh, got caught up real bad in another fandom haha. I apologize! I also had this chapter written out for like days but wasn't satisfied with it and wanted to add something more bc it was so short but like... I didn't?? I do not understand myself haha. 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy! There's not much happening in this chapter either, again, I'm a dollop head. Next chapter will probably be Voltron again, until we return to the l'Óreal commercial guy a lot of people love to hate, haha. Cya~

“Hey, Lance. Lance. Wake up.”  
  
His eyes peeled themselves open with a yawn and he blinked, bleary-eyed, towards whoever was shaking him gently but firmly awake.

“Yeah, I’m up, I’m up … five more minutes, mamà ...”  
“Do I look like your mum to you?”  
  
Another blink and Lance started awake, a nervous smile forming on his lips as his sleep deprived and exhausted brain started rambling.

“Holy shit, man, you scared the crap out of me! You can’t just go around and wake people up like that, what the hell!”  
Keith just stared back at him, his mouth quirked up into a confused, lopsided grin, his hair even more dishevelled than before.

“Like … what?”, he asked and Lance felt his face burn, praying to every god he could think of that the Red Paladin wouldn’t notice how lost he was inside his own brain. His mouth just kept on rambling.

“You know, like, gently. You’re not gentle, it’s freaking me out, are you okay? Do we have to find your true body as well, did you get cloned by some evil witch …”  
  
He knew he had gone too far the instant those words left his mouth. Keith’s eyes flickered, suddenly too dark and blank, and Lance felt his face drain of colour.

“I’m sorry”, he started to croak but Keith had already turned his back to him, his shoulders tensed.

“It’s fine. I’m me, don’t worry. I won’t wake you up like that again.”  
  
“No, wait … Jesus, Keith, it was a joke, alright? I’m sorry!”, Lance blurted out, trying to catch up to the young man in front of him. “I didn’t mean it that way, I’m not fully awake, okay, I say stupid things when I’m half asleep and you startled me and I was embarrassed and _please, _don’t do this!”

His tongue was still trying to wrap itself around the words he wanted to spit out, when Keith heaved a sigh and looked back at him, his face unreadable.

“It’s fine, Lance. Look, we should get back. The others are probably worried about us at this point.”  
  
It was not fine.

Lance fell in step behind Keith, his shoulders hunched in on themselves and his head mulling over the last few minutes. The silence was back to a brooding, painful one and he hated every single second of it so much he almost sighed in relief when the five Lions came into view. Keith had been right – the thought made him grit his teeth – the others _were _already worried, Allura and Coran rushing towards them entirely too fast for it to be casual, except Shiro, who was sitting at the feet of the Black Lion, his face lined with exhaustion and worry.

“Where were you? Are you alright, both of you? Oh, you shouldn’t have gone, we were all terribly worried!” Allura’s voice sounded almost frantic until the tall woman heaved a sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose, hard. The next time she opened her mouth, her voice sounded much calmer, more like the Princess they had come to know and like.

“We shouldn’t separate in an unknown place like this. Surely you understand, right?”  
  
Lance scratched his cheek in meek embarrassment. “Yeah, we know, Allura. Sorry to have worried you.” He saw her surprised blink that turned into utter amazement as Keith added. “Yeah. Sorry ‘bout that.”  
  
“Alright … as long as you understand, then”, she said, sounding more and more confused about this, but Lance was too tired to care, if he was being honest. He missed being asleep, actually, and he had a feeling that the next time wouldn’t nearly be as peaceful as this one. He stole a glance in Keith’s direction and wanted to kick himself in the shins for it. What was he acting like a lovestruck fool for? This was ridiculous!  
  
He saw Shiro get up with some difficulty, his right arm a stump of machinery that was painful to look at, and walk over to them, his face set in a quiet frown. Lance felt like a little child again, looking at the man.

“Are you two alright?” Shiro’s voice was quiet but Keith, who hadn’t been looking at him, still flinched, the movement almost hidden from view, before turning around to his more or less adoptive brother – at least Lance had dubbed them that way and it wasn’t so far off in his mind. Shiro’s shoulders tensed slightly.

“We’re fine, Shiro.” Keith’s voice was subdued somehow but he met Shiro’s worried glance and managed a small smile, something Lance had never seen on his face. He felt like an intruder in this scene and tried stepping back, giving those two some privacy they apparently needed, an amused quirk on his lips.

“I’ll leave you two to each other, making lovey dovey eyes at each other …”  
Shiro blinked. “Lance, what are you talking about? Are you sure you didn’t hit your head on your way out?”  
  
“That’s how he always is”, Keith interjected and turned around again, walking in a brisk pace to the Black Lion behind Shiro. He wasn’t even looking at the man, Lance noticed with a pang that hit his stomach out of nowhere. Shiro’s eyes followed him, regret shining in his eyes, before he noticed Lance’s apparently not-so-subtle glance on him, his face relaxing.

“You look tired, Lance. You should get some more rest before we get going – I wouldn’t want to lose you.”  
“You look tired, too, Shiro. Seriously, man, get some rest yourself”, he retorted, worry actually creeping into his voice. A small smile formed on the older man’s lips.

“I will. But unlike you, I won’t have to pilot a Lion through unknown territory. I will be fine.”  
Well, he wouldn’t be and he wasn’t. Lance felt his forehead wrinkle but decided not to push the matter too far.

“I mean, if you say so. Hey, have you seen Pidge or Hunk, Shiro? They’re not here as well? And what about Romelle, is she with them?”  
Shiro blinked once. “I don’t think so, no. Pidge is still trying to reach earth, or at this point anyone willing to listen and Hunk said he wanted to try and make everyone something to eat. I believe Romelle has gone with him though, yes.”  
  
Something to eat … Lance’s stomach growled and the small smile that fought its way on Shiro’s face actually seemed relaxed for once.

“Exactly the reason Hunk set out for his journey, I presume.”  
Lance grinned. “Yeah, his food is seriously the best. Anyway, thanks, Shiro. I’ll see to it that I find some sleep, promise.”  
The former Black Paladin smiled and patted his shoulder. “Good boy.”  
“I’m not a dog, Shiro!”  
But Shiro just chuckled slightly and ruffled his hair a bit, until Lance pouted his way into freedom. His smile vanished almost instantly the moment Shiro couldn’t see his face anymore. He had been so sure that Keith was alright but what he had seen had proved him wrong – so wrong that his worry about his other teammates now seemed trivial compared to it. Whatever Keith was, it wasn’t fine. He was just really good at hiding it from everyone and somehow, that knowledge hurt him more than he had thought possible.


	6. Shit, Shit, Shit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am back! - with a slightly larger chapter this time to make up for the one from yesterday. Also, this is like my first fight scene EVER, please tell me what you think about it!

Shit. The world had gone to shit. _Again._

Lance cursed under his breath and yanked Red’s controls to the left, feeling her growl travel down his spine, a flash of purple just barely missing the both of them as he made the Lion face the Galra warship, blasting a scorching firelance in its general direction. It connected with the side of the spaceship and an explosion bloomed in the night sky, illuminating the fight surrounding them.

It didn’t look good.

They had come out of nowhere, startling every single one of the paladins out of the routine they had fallen in to and landing a hit on Yellow before anyone of them could have reacted. The scream his friend had let loose had Lance still reeling, his nerves a jumbled mess. Hunk was _fine, _he had said so himself, he had just been as shocked as every single one of them which was why he had screamed (Pidge had interrupted him roughly at this point of his rambling and told him to _shut up and concentrate_) …

Still.

Only his instincts had made Lance and Red work together as one afterwards, shooting down one Galra fighter after the other while trying to take the Mothership down as well. So far, the first half of the plan was working brilliantly. The second one – not so much.

“Keith! Anything from Krolia yet?”, he managed to ask, his teeth finally stopping their jerky movements – he was _not _still shaken up, thank you very much – to let him talk to their leader. Static frizzled painfully inside his ear.

“Keith, damnit, _answer me_!”  
“ - nection bad, sorry. Nothing yet.”  
_Finally._

“Well, tell her to hurry it up, I don’t think we can take this much longer! She needs to disable the shields, or we will all - “  
“ - LEFT, LANCE!”

Red shot around as Lance instinctively followed the command, swerving just under a purple beam that would have otherwise hit her squarely in the chest. Cursing, he shot back, trying to pinpoint the fighter until it finally exploded into shrapnel, metal clanking uselessly against Red’s giant form next to it.

“Keep your – in the game – not over yet!” Keith’s voice was heated. “ - make it!”  
He had no idea if his rival – friend – meant that Krolia was going to make it or that _they _were going to make it and frankly, he didn’t care. Keith had just saved his ass because his head wasn’t in the game, as he so nicely had pointed out. Lance clenched his fists on the controls.

“Alright!”, he bellowed back, adding a quiet “Thanks” after a moment of consideration. Keith had earned it, after all, and if he wasn’t listening anymore, even better.

“Lance, I need your ass over here!” Pidge’s voice was full of something he didn’t want to think about and he turned his focus to Green, her slender form spewing one shot from her Vine Cannon after the other – but it just wasn’t enough. Lance pressed his thumb on one of the control buttons in front of him.

“Come on, baby, we gotta help our friends out here!”  
Red roared, a fiery bellow of pure, unadulterated fury, and dashed forward, her eyes glowing a fierce yellow, Jaw Blade ready. She sliced through the first few Galra Fighters on her way to Pidge and Lance felt rather than saw them explode behind them, adding to the mine field of metal scraps all around them. He heard Pidge scream over the voice line they shared as another hit shook Green to her core and felt panic settle inside him, hard and hot and jittery, his hands beginning to shake.

“Come on, Lance. Snap out of it, buddy, you gotta save her, you gotta save the team …!”  
Another Fighter fell apart. And another. Red wasn’t slowing down as if she could feel the turmoil he was going through, her eyes locked on to their target …

The Ion Cannon came out of nowhere, bathing the entire area in paradoxically soft purple light and hitting Green square in the chest, blasting her back, back, back until all Lance could see was the purple sea she seemed to be swimming in. His stomach turned to ice.

“P-Pidge?”

Crackling static greeted him.

“Pidge … come on, answer me ...”  
He was only distantly aware of Red’s howl as something connected with her side, sending her flying away.

“Pidge, damn it, come in! You can’t just … _Pidge_!”  
A slight buzzing filled the air around him, growing to a loud and breathtaking growl in a few heartbeats.

“Pidge!!”  
“Lance, turn around, _turn around lancecanyouhear-_”  
Purple colour flooded his vision and exploded into blackness _and he-_

came up with a gasp and a shout on his burning lips, his consciousness buoying up from the dark waters surrounding his head like liquid fire. He was alright, Pidge was alright, it had been a _dream, just a stupid dream and -_

“Lance! Oh god, Lance, buddy, you’re _alive!”_

Something, no, someone crashed into him and pulled him into a bear hug he knew like the back of his hand and he found himself choking on his own breath, patting Hunk faintly on the back.

“Sure I am, big guy”, he coughed and added a wheezing, “_can’t breathe.” _Hunk let go of him almost instantly, his expression sheepish, his eyes rimmed with tears.

Rimmed with tears.

Lance felt his insides turn to ice.

“Where are we?”, he croaked, grabbing Hunk’s arm to try and steady himself. “Where’s Pidge? Hunk, tell me I was having a bad dream because I ate too many of your cookies …!”  
The big yellow paladin swallowed, his eyes suddenly full of tears _again, _and Lance felt his insides trying to choke him to an untimely death. At least that was the only explanation for the pain that flashed through him, hard and _fast._

“No...”  
Hunk sniffled. “I- I’m sorry, man, I tried to warn you but you wouldn’t respond and then the Cannon crashed into you and you were out of it for like a _day _or so, and I didn’t know what to do and I …!”  
Lance searched almost blindly for his hand, grabbing it fiercely, trying to ground Hunk and himself as best he could, his insides still frozen in disbelief and shock. Hunk fell silent again, only swallowing back his tears from time to time, the sloppy sound the only thing breaching the silence between them – because nothing else was making a sound. No one else was here. Lance wasn’t sure how it was possible, but he felt even worse than before.

“The others?”, he choked out, not trusting his voice with more words than the absolute necessary. Hunk shook his head.

“Haven’t heard from them”, he admitted silently, until he perked up again, his big hand suddenly giving Lance’s a reassuring squeeze.

“But they patched you up and made sure you wouldn’t die which means they need us for something, right? They probably separated us to make it easier for them. The others are fine, just you want. I – I mean, every single one of them is way too stubborn to just _die, _right?”  
The way his voice gave way halfway through his last sentence gripped at Lance’s heart, _hard. _But he made himself nod, made himself shake his head and pull a watery smile, trying to let Hunk’s desperate optimism into his heart and soul.

“You’re right. Yeah. I can just imagine Mullet Head slamming the door of his cell into Death’s face if he ever… decides to show himself ...” He chuckled, a lost and broken sound but Hunk picked up on it eagerly, nodding his head.

“Exactly! We just gotta stay calm and wait for news on them or something. Or stay calm and break out. Whichever works first.”  
Lance was overcome by a wave of gratitude that almost choked him, his grip on Hunk’s hand becoming even more vice-like. His friend, his beautiful bear of a friend, never giving up on anything in his life – well, at least not when it really mattered. He heard himself chuckle quietly and felt rather than saw Hunk’s inquisitive look.

“What?”  
“Nothing. Just.. you’re right. Let’s find a way out of this shithole.”  
“Lance. Language.”  
Lance elbowed his friend in the ribs, grinning. “Yeah, yeah, sorry about that. Let’s go.”  
He found himself suddenly brimming with energy. Everything would be fine. He just had to believe it – and make the rest happen with Hunk by his side. He was a paladin of Voltron! They would come through, as they always had, because they had to. For the sake of the universe.

Keith felt a headache forming inside his battered skull as he tried to open his eyes, blinking blearily in front of him. The world swam back into focus – as did the blue eyes staring at him. He bit back a curse.

“F- Allura?!”  
The eyes lit up.

“Keith! Oh I am so glad you are awake!”  
And she pulled him into a bone crushing hug his body most certainly did _not _appreciate at the moment. He patted her shoulder awkwardly, trying to breathe around her hug.

“Yeah, I’m awake. More or less. What…?”  
His brain provided him with jumbled images of its own, screaming and sizzling panic inside himself, as he remembered the _falling and exploding and-_

He sat up straighter, Allura’s arms still locked around him.

“Where are we? Are we…?”  
She nodded against his chest, finally pushing herself up again to look at him, her eyes rimmed with exhaustion and something akin to fear. He felt his chest give a long, painful squeeze.

“We are on the Galra war ship that intercepted our route roughly a quintant ago.” She fiddled with her hands. “They seem to have separated us for the sake of keeping us firmly under control. I haven’t seen the others either – it is almost impossible to see anything through this blasted door.” She motioned to said door and Keith followed her hand with his eyes, taking in every detail he could. The Galra seemed to have put them in a small cell, barely big enough for two people. The door Allura had mentioned was in fact an iron exit hatch, sealed expertly around the edges, a small slit in the first quarter providing some stale air for them to breathe. Nothing else.

_Damn it._

“A quintant ago?”, he picked up on the one information he had missed the first time around. Allura nodded, her mouth quirked to one side.   
“Yes, as far as I can tell. The sentries have been changing positions regularly in front of the door and -”  
“And Shiro told us when they’d do that”, he finished the sentence for her, prodding her to another nod.

“Exactly. So I’ve been counting their footsteps to measure the time and this is what I came up with.”  
“So you’ve been conscious the whole time?”  
“Not exactly.”  
That explained the ‘roughly’. He nibbled thoughtfully on his lower lip.

“We need to get out of here and find the others. Do you know anything about these kind of doors?”  
Allura shook her head, her eyes suddenly downcast and her ears drooping slightly.

“Unfortunately, no. I’ve been trying to inspect them, but as far as I can see, there seems to be no way of getting out of here without someone opening it for us – there has to be a way for the Galra to do it, since they got us into this place in the first place, but I just cannot find it to work for us. It almost seems like...”  
Keith felt his mouth grow dry.

“Almost as if they sealed us in here with no intention of getting us out again?”

Allura’s face had gone pale. “But why would they do that? They need us, do they not? You are the Black Paladin of Voltron, and I am the last Altean princess ...”  
Her voice trailed of as the room around them shook, jerking violently from side to side. Keith felt his insides grow cold as he stumbled to catch Allura in time before her head connected with the wall, his shoulder bumping against it painfully in the process. He hissed through clenched teeth as every single bruise he had gotten in the fight seemed to light up with pain like the christmas tree they used to put up in the Garrison when that time of the year came around.

“What the hell?!”  
Allura shook in his arms, her eyes wide and panicked and-

“Hello there, Paladin of Voltron. Are you feeling comfortable?”  
Keith’s eyes almost popped out of his sockets at the gravelly voice snarling at them through some sort of speaker he hadn’t seen – couldn’t see now, even as he whipped his head around hard enough to send another throb down his neck as his muscles seized up.

“You …!”

The voice laughed.

“Me. Had you expected someone else, worm?”  
He ground his teeth together.

“What do you fucking want with us?!”  
He heard a tongue click impatiently. “Manners, young Paladin.”  
Manners? Oh, he was going to give that bitch, that blasted _bitch _some manners when he found her and could gouge her eyes out with his bayard …!

“My desires are simple.”  
Fucking finally. Allura next to him had tensed up, her skin leeched of colour, growing paler every second. _Impossible, _she mouthed. Keith would have agreed with her, if not for the voice that kept continuing to talk to them in a raspy whisper now.

“Give me your lions and I will maybe spare your life. Or die and watch from the afterworld how I take them by force.”  
Keith felt the world around him suddenly turn red with fury boiling in his stomach.

“So we can either die for sure or probably die?”, he spat out, his brows drawn together to a hateful scowl. “How about we kill you instead and let this all be over with, huh?!”  
A low unamused chuckle.

“Silly child. You wish to kill me? Impossible.”  
“Oh yeah?! Want me to prove to you how _impossible _that is, huh?!”  
“Keith ...”  
“Not now, Allura!”  
“But Keith -!”  
He spun around, ready to scream at the princess, ready to …

The finger with which she was pointing towards the door trembled ever so slightly and Keith felt his fury turn to something else, something sluggish in his veins that almost strangled him.

This time, the chuckling did sound amused and he felt that he couldn’t care anymore.

“You do not have much time, Young Paladin. Your friends will be faced with the same decision – and should they decide to resist giving me what I want I will follow through with what you can see right now.”  
They weren’t on a Galra ship – or, well, they _were, _but not on the war ship that had attacked them about a day ago. This was a small sentry ship, just big enough for a control centre, the general machinery he could feel humming through the walls, and their small cell, which _had _in fact been sealed shut from the outside after they had been imprisoned.

In front of them, larger than anything he had ever seen, a black hole bloomed like a wilting flower, its tendrils stretching towards them hungrily, eagerly awaiting its delicious meal. The chuckling had evolved into a fully blown out cackling, grating at his nerves.  
“You will obey me, Paladin, or perish. Choose.”  
_Fuck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, I know that cliffhanger was positively evil and frankly, I don't care *grins* You will be getting Lotor in the next chapter again and you will probably hate me for that but remember, I love and appreciate all of you *blows kisses*  
Cya~


	7. Being a Wet Paper Towel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And another chapter! As I promised, you will get some Lotor and Azul Action in this one, so the cliffhanger is still very much there, muha. I hope you still like it tho! <3

“So, Rushar – still no idea about that brain of yours?”  
“I told you to stop calling me that.”  
“Alright, Pretty Boy, relax.”  
“You-!”

Azul grinned her toothy grin again and he felt his mood sour again, just slightly because he just couldn’t stay angry when she did that. It made amusement bubble in his chest and he certainly did not enjoy that, not one bit. He shook his head firmly.

“No. I have no idea why I could remember something about your race when I can barely recall myself. There must be something ...”  
“Blocking your brainwaves?”, Azul suggested, her grin all but vanished. He groaned inwardly.

“Something like that could be possible, yes”, he admitted, grinding his teeth. Azul snickered, the sound echoing in the emptiness around them, bouncing off some oddly shaped rocks.

“You do realize how that sounds, right?”  
“Well, what about your ideas?” His patience, already worn thin enough, snapped yet again and he shot her a dark look.

“Pff, I dunno, man. I am just a simple pilot, nothing else to it. Don’t make me think up brain theories.”  
He heaved a sigh. “Do you want me to deny the simple part?”  
“Yes, please.” She smirked again, her teeth too white against her lips, her hands clasped behind her back. “Until you figure out how to do that, how about you start thinking about the situation you’re currently in and what you want to do about it, huh?”  
“I have amnesia, I wasn’t born stupid, unlike you”, he grumbled back, unable to keep himself in check. Azul just chuckled and waved a hand at him. He couldn’t help but get the feeling that she was slowly but surely relaxing around him – just slightly, her ears not as pricked as they had been before, her posture slightly hunching over until she all but snuggled up to the earth beneath her. It gave him an odd feeling he couldn’t quite place, one he minded very much nonetheless. It almost made his headache come back.

He had no time to think about this!

The situation he was in was quite severe to say the least. He was stranded on something, most likely a planet, he had no way of getting _off _said planet because he had no idea how he had gotten here in the first place, he had no food and just the water Azul had thrown at him earlier. As a matter of fact, he had almost nothing, save for the clothes he was currently wearing and …

Oh no.

Oh no, no, no.

He shifted from one leg to the other, pride and anger fighting with the instincts of survival, until his mind finally surrendered to his body’s wishes.

“Would you … be willing to help me, Azul?”, he managed to get out beneath his clenched teeth, his voice carefully neutral. Her ears twitched once, twice.

“I might consider it?” But her shit-eating grin was back, he noticed with the air of defeat hanging just barely over his head. This was just getting worse by the second.

“Help me, Azul.”  
No reaction this time. He blinked and felt something warm colour his face. Oh, he was so _not _doing this right now!  
Azul pulled her dark hair towards herself, combing through it with one hand, her eye not facing him at all, a soft humming in the air. All he could hear was her chortling from earlier.

“Azul … please.” The word almost didn’t make it past his lips.  
She looked up again, her eye lighting up with mirth. “Oh, someone remembers manners!”, she exclaimed, before hauling herself up on her thin legs. “For a please, I just might. Come along then, Rushar.”  
The name made him want to turn her down all over again, until his common sense managed to convince him that _yes, _he did in fact need help because he wasn’t going to get off this rock on his own, especially not in his condition. He had to take help.

The thought alone made him want to regurgitate something, anything at all – the problem was that there was nothing left he _could _regurgitate. He just had to settle with keeping his stomach from digesting itself and blinking warily at Azul – both options that did not leave him entirely satisfied.

The are around him did not change one bit. He had no idea how Azul actually knew where she was going and the thought did not improve his mood one bit. He was dependent like a small duckling! On a stranger no less, a stranger that had been brutalized by his species for far too long, had known humiliation, defeat and imprisonment for a good part of her life and had been running from the Empire ever since …

The… Empire …?

His thoughts came to a screeching halt, as he stumbled upon the words his brain had so readily supplied without him actually looking for them. How had he …?

“_You are just like your father!”  
_His head exploded into sudden pain, making him stumble and almost crash into a slender form he didn’t immediately recognize, his thoughts filled with painful static and the desire to shoot, to kill, to …!  
“_Rushar!”_  
Something prodded him sharply in his still tender ribs and he wheezed, purple liquid staining his lips once again as he fell to his knees. Someone was here, someone was heaving him back upright, no matter how much he struggled.

“I am not…!”  
The words wouldn’t leave his throat. They were stuck, stuck as he was because he had done something awful, something cruel, unforgiving, something so horribly, horribly wrong and he couldn’t remember it but it hurt, it hurt _it-_

“Rushar! Breathe, damn it!”  
A fist connected with his stomach and he gasped for the air he so desperately needed, until he felt it, blissfully cool and soothing against his sore throat, until he could finally take one huge rattling heave. And then another.

And another.

And another.

He felt something cold and soothing prod against his lips and opened them almost against his will, surprised as water flowed gently down his sore throat. Someone was still holding him upright, more or less at least, his weight apparently too much for …

“Azul …?”, he croaked and heard a small intake of breath. Green and red and black swam across his vision.

“Yeah, I’m here, Rushar. Drink up.”  
He took another sip, mutely appalled at how readily he listened to her, still a stranger that had somehow taken him in, even though he couldn’t understand her reasoning one bit. He had nothing to give to her, had he now? And yet she was still here, taking …

Taking care of him.

His brain made another attempt at blowing itself up and he groaned, feeling bile crawling up his throat.

“Don’t overdo it, Rushar.”  
Well, he was trying his best, wasn’t he? It was just slightly more difficult than he had thought, since he had no clue what was too much for him in his current state.

One step at a time.

“Thank you”, he managed, his head still reeling. Azul nodded, her face finally gaining more substance in his eyes until he managed to make out the shadows flitting across her pupil.

Was she concerned he was going to turn on her?

“Yeah, no sweat. Keep on drinking a bit, alright? Keeping you hydrated is probably the best idea with your condition.”  
Whatever that _condition _was – but he agreed. Drinking a bit more water made him feel somehow grounded, made him relax just slightly, his mouth still tasting funny. He thought about spitting on the floor and decided against it with a shudder. Feeling ill or not, he still possessed some common manners!

The world around him had stopped spinning just enough for him to make out something small and oddly shaped right in front of him. The strange light all around him bounced off it, almost blinding him, but after blinking a few times, he managed to get used to it.

“What is that?”

Azul snorted.

“That, Mr. Amnesiac, is my ship. And currently”, she paused dramatically, “your only way off this place, wherever it exactly is.

A … ship?  
He squinted.

“It looks more like scraps to me if anything.”  
“Hey!”  
He wouldn’t be caught dead with the words “space ship” describing this small piece of junk! It looked entirely too small for even Azul, as tiny as she was next to him, and no matter how hard he racked his brain, he could think of no possible physical explanation of him fitting in there. Azul put her hand on the flank of the flying catastrophe in front of him and opened up a slender hatch, revealing a tiny cockpit. It did have two seats, he noticed, one up front and one slightly behind, both equipped with a slender control panel and two handles right and left, a thin line running between the both of them. Nothing else. No windows, no open space – every single nook and cranny was filled with technical devices currently scrambling back to life under Azul’s deft fingers.

“And how exactly do you believe me to fit?”

She didn’t even glance back at him. “How about you fold yourself in half like the wet paper towel you can be?”  
He bristled. “I am not -”  
“Ya, sure. Just make sure to fit and don’t move too much.”  
Had she even listened to him?!  
“There is no way -”  
“Look, Rushar.” She scrambled back outside, her arms and legs still tucked away somewhere in this thing he was currently looking at.

“You have two options. Get in there, or stay here and die. This planet is empty, as far a I can tell. No water, no plants, no life forms, nothing. So it’s either being uncomfortable or being dead. Which one do you choose?”

****

It had been an entirely arbitrary choice, really, he grumbled to himself, his knees painfully pressing against his sternum in an attempt to fit his body into the seat he was strapping himself into at the moment. Azul had closed the hatch just a second ago and he already missed having an exit – even though he had been unable to reach it from the moment his feet touched the ground before the place he was occupying right now. In fact, he couldn’t reach anything without almost knocking himself out in the process and to be quite frank, it annoyed him a great deal.

The front part of the flying dishwasher – he was not calling it ship, oh no – lit up and Azul smirked.   
“There’s my baby”, she laughed, flopping down on to her own seat, her legs folding themselves into place neatly enough that hot jealousy coursed through his cramped veins. She swirled around to face him.

“So. Look. A few things, alright?”  
“Just a few?”  
“Oh, bite me. Number one: you have a control panel and you will not use it, until I tell you to or teach you how. Understood?”  
“I can -”  
“Listen, Rushar, I don’t care. You might remember something via muscle memory, you might not and I’m not taking that risk. Got it?”  
Fuming, he clenched his teeth, letting calm logic replace his emotions already running wild. This was leading to nothing!

“Got it.”  
“Great! Number two: don’t move around if you can’t help it. My baby’s pretty small and she’ gonna get knocked around too much if you do that.”  
Was she being serious right now?   
“And what if I have to move?”  
Azul grinned at him. “Quite frankly, I’d much rather have you bang your head than let you move but if you wanna keep yourself from getting knocked out again, _tell me _and then move. Got it?”  
He mumbled his second assurance.

“Awesome. Hold on tight.”  
Something _crooned _underneath him as the turbines awoke with a start, heaving them up, up, up until he gripped the sides of his seat with whitened knuckles. Azul whooped in delight.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby! Off we go!”  
“Wait, where exactly -!”  
He didn’t get to finish his sentence.

The ground _lurched _towards them in one giant fell swoop, coming in closer and even closer until he was more than certain they would simply crash on the ground – this was a mistake, a mistake, a mistake, he was going to die, there was no doubt about it now, he should have never listened-! – but then Azul _pulled, _her whole body almost floating around the controls and he felt his stomach being left behind to shatter on the ground. They were airborne once again and they were gaining speed so rapidly he felt like vomiting again, Azul grinning like a maniac up front.

“Do you want to kill us?!” He heard his own voice, rather distantly, and almost screeched with panic as Azul turned around to face him, grinning at him mockingly.

“Why are you looking this way, you’re the one flying, _watch out -!”  
_Something hurtled towards them, something that looked an awful lot like – oh, no, no, he wanted to get _off, _he wanted to die in peace, not by being shattered into a million pieces and -!  
Nothing.

No impact.

Not trusting the peace one bit, he took a while to convince himself to open his eyes. They were met with a shit-eating grin from the small goblin right in front of him.

“Relax, Rushar. I’ve been flying this baby since I was five years old, I know how to do it. Damn, I didn’t know Galra could lose actual _colour! _You look like you just met your own grim reaper, you know that?” She laughed heartily and he felt his cheeks heat up again.

“And whose fault do you think that is?!”  
But she just continued to laugh, her fingers moving too quickly for him to follow, the ship now flying at a steady, yet fast, pace through what looked like to be a meteor shower. He felt his hands relax just slightly, his whole body still as tense as before, his stomach nonexistant.

Whatever this was going to turn out to be, it would take centuries from his lifespan …


	8. Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So honestly, I'm not entirely happy about this chapter and I might edit the ever living fuck out of it but I wanted to get this out before I fretted too much over it, damn it! I hope you still like it, haha. I am, btw, going for a slighty morally ambiguous Lotor bc I feel that that is his true nature the show kinda ... forgot along the way. I do hope it works, pls tell me if it does(n't)!

It was all around him, crackling with invisible energy he couldn’t see but _feel, _deep inside his bones where his marrow hummed a crooked chord to it, spreading whatever this was into his very essence until he felt it consuming everything that he had ever been. Pain rattled through him, his nerves a raging fire he couldn’t, wouldn’t, wasn’t able to calm no matter what he tried because this right here, this was his birth right, this was his legacy, this was the one thing he had been working for, had killed for, for the greater good the greater yes this was

this was

His thoughts jumbled out of action a moment later, forgetting, fleeing into the shadows of his mind – where was he, what was he doing, what was this he could feel it in his bones it hurt everything hurt he just wanted it to

stop

because he was being consumed, being turned into something else, going, going gone what was this he wanted to

hurt so much hurt

help

no

please I-

_wakeuprushar_

Something was there, just beyond his fingertips, ready to be grasped and never let go, a lifeline he wanted to depend on this was not what

He wasn’t like this, he didn’t

mistakes were made this was a mistake this was he was it was

_Rushar_

dying, he could feel it in his blood coursing through his veins like ice coating his core, he was dying and he couldn’t breathe and

“Rushar! Wake up!”  
  
And he was gasping for air, desperately trying to let it pass through his windpipe, desperately trying to not throw up in the process, desperately trying to stay conscious, stay focused, stay …!  
  
A small hand gripped his, _hard, _and he allowed his senses to zero in on the sensation it left on his skin, his fingers prickling as if stung by a Loxcori plant. He relished in the feeling of being _alive, _being _here, _wherever here was – he found it in himself that he did not give one fleeting thought to that, only the fact that he wasn’t hurting any more and his essence wasn’t slowly dripping from his thoughts out into the open, turning his whole body inside out in the process. He was _whole again, _not being torn apart by something he couldn’t explain even if he wanted to, he was whole and breathing and being grounded by the pressure of five small digits and a low voice he couldn’t even understand.

“It’s alright, Rushar, it’s alright. Just breathe. You’ve got this, buddy, breathe, I’m here with you, just focus on something, anything at all, alright? I’m not gonna stop talking until you tell me to shut up, so you better make me. I will continue like this for hours on end, you have no idea, how annoying I can be. It’s alright. I’m right here, Rushar.”

“Just breathe through it. It was a dream, just a dream, you here me? Just a dream. You’re fine, you’re _safe, _you’re alright. Rushar, can you hear me?”  
  
Groaning, he felt his eyelids lift themselves to let him peer through slitted eyes, peer up up up until he could vaguely see a green shape of _something _hover just above him, red and black mixed in it until his head swam again with the assault of colours on his mind. This scene, he decided, felt oddly familiar.

“Azul?” He heard his own voice croak out a name and had to grapple with his own conscience yet again. The green blob grew more distinct until he looked into the face of a slender woman.

“Yeah, that’s the one. You remember me, buddy?”

His lips cracked a sour smile. “Your voice is … too obnoxious for me to even try and … forget it ...”  
Azul snorted, but something other than forged indignation danced across her face, gone before he could decipher it.

“Shut up, Rushar, and drink your water like a good lil’ Galra kit.”  
“I am not -”  
“I do not give one single damn. Drink.”  
And she pressed something cool against his dry lips. He swallowed automatically, almost sighing with relief as the water soothed his throat, clearing his head as well in the process. This was decidedly better than before, yes. Very much so, in fact.  


“Thank you”, he mumbled after his third mouthful, his voice no longer hoarse. He blinked, as Azul just nodded – he had expected for her to rejoice at this, or mock him for it, demanding that he tell her again in a louder voice. He had not expected for her to just … leave it at that.

She must have sensed his puzzlement because she scoffed lightly, shifting him until he felt his back hit something solid.

“Just sit tight for a minute, alright?”  
He nodded, not wanting to question her too much, lest he arouse her suspicion that he was onto her. She was too soft for it not to be some sort of trap, trying to lull him into a false sense of security – and he, he had given her exactly what she needed, a weak, _dependent _prince of the Empire-

Pain flashed through him, brief but violent, and he squeezed his eyes shut, suppressing his shudders as best as he could. “Prince”. Again, his brain had provided him with an answer to the puzzle that was his past without him having to think about it too hard, even though it made no sense to his fragmented thoughts whatsoever.

A prince.

He pressed his mouth into a thin line. He couldn’t imagine there to be a lot of Galra princes in the Empire – asking Azul about this would probably give him an answer to some of the questions he had been asking himself. This, on the other hand, would also mean providing her with information about him he wasn’t sure he wanted to be shared. And since he had no way of telling whether or not she would be telling him everything there was to know about him …

No. He wasn’t about to give her that much more power over his past if he could avoid the issue altogether.

“I know you’re probably not in the mood for this, but you should eat something.”  
Azul had returned, this time with a weirdly shaped fruit in her hands, and pressed it into his hands. He blinked.

“Are you sure you want me to potentially vomit in your … ship?”, he inquired. Azul scoffed at his rather deliberate pause and shrugged.

“Honestly, I don’t really care. We – meaning you – can always clean it. I know your stomach’s upset at this point but you haven’t had anything since a few vargas ago and it helps. Trust me.”  
  
He squinted at her, her face blessedly remaining solid in front of his eyes.

“You seem to be knowing an awful lot more about my condition than you previously told me – even though you claimed not to be a physician. I would very much like to know the reason for that.”  
Very much indeed. Azul shifted on her feet and he tensed his shoulders just slightly, readying himself for whatever she intended to do. He could smell guilt and something else, her emotions sour on his tongue and wondered, not for the first time, what this woman in front of him might be up to.

“Listen, I’m sorry.”  
That, however, took him by surprise.

“You … are sorry.”  
“Yeah.”  
She shifted again, exuding nervousness.

“I’m at least pretty sure what your problem is. Why you can’t remember anything, or at least not so much. I just … I wasn’t exactly sure how to tell you.”  
He felt his eyes narrow to dangerous slits.

“And why, pray tell, is that the case?”  
Azul heaved a sigh and plopped down next to him, folding herself neatly in half in the process.

“It’s because … because I didn’t want to talk about a lot of things. And also because I wasn’t sure – still am not sure by the way, just so you know – how you might take it. The truth I mean, of what I suspect.”  
He stilled, his breath becoming all too soft.

“Listen, Rushar – you’re Galra, alright? And despite the fact that I don’t want to blame you for that, I still have a hard time trusting you. I don’t want for you to go berserk on me because frankly, I don’t want to have to kill you or even attempt it.” The words rushed out of her as if they were trying to flee her anxious mind and he had to fight down the impulse to move towards her, even though they were already touching, their knees pressed together in the tight space around them.

“So I guess … I just wanted to help you, without endangering myself, you know? I wanted to ...” She cut herself off, groaning, and took a deep breath, before she looked him squarely in the eye, her own pupil slightly dilated.

“I have no idea what happened in your past exactly, but I know what an overdose looks like.”  
  
An … overdose? He almost snorted in disbelief, only held back by the sincerity he spotted in her eye, the way her fingers flitted across her own wrists, restlessly grappling for something he couldn’t see or feel.

“Do you think me some sort of drug addict?” The words came out sharper than he had intended and he saw her flinch away as if they were a knife aimed at her throat. It made his stomach clench slightly.

“Not some sort of addict. Listen, I’m not talking about some illegal substance – I’m talking about quintessence here. The raw stuff, you see? You must have had excessive contact with it shortly before you landed in … that place. It’s dangerous – quintessence. It can do things with your mind ...”  
She shuddered again, just barely so, but he felt it through his legs, crawling up his spine and into his head. Into his _heart. _

“So that is what you believe … happened to me”, he said, letting the words ooze out from between his lips. Azul nodded.

“Yeah. Pretty much.”  
“And when, pray tell”, he pushed the words past his teeth, growling softly in his throat, his anger finally bubbling through everything else and bleeding right into them, “were you planning on telling me this crucial information about myself?”  
Azul’s ears bristled and she abruptly tore her knee from his.

“Well, I _thought _it might be for the best to let you recover a bit? You know – from your injuries? And the fact that you are poisoned by a great amount of quintessence currently coursing through your veins? I’ve had like twenty vargas to tell you _anything _without you collapsing into nothing but limps and the occasional grunt, so excuse me when I wanted to focus on getting us out _alive _rather than retelling you what might or might not have happened to you!” Her voice grew louder at the end, making his ears ring unpleasantly. He refused to let it show on his face.

“So yes, that might have been a mistake, but don’t you dare pin this on me, Rushar!” She jabbed her green claw at him and he fought the urge to swat it away like the hand of a disobedient child. What he could not fight was the small growl that escaped him, making her flinch away from him yet again. His anger at least stopped surging to the top, cooling down at the edges enough for him to observe it rather calmly. She had, evidently, not withheld this vital information for any sinister intent. Probably. He could not entirely rule out the possibility of that – he didn’t feel comfortable doing so, he had to admit – but the way she acted was suspicious for entirely different reasons.

This was something personal.

“You seem to know a great deal about this quintessence.”  
She scoffed, not looking back at him, her body contorted around her own seat. His own tendons ached sourly at the sight of it.

“It’s not really a big deal to know more than _you _do, Rushar.”  
It was a fair point, he had to admit.

“That might me true but it was not what I was getting at.”  
Azul scratched at her left arm, her fingers making a scraping noise his head most certainly did not appreciate.

“And what might you be getting at, Mister High and Mighty?”  
He was entirely certain she knew what he was getting at – she just did not want to talk about it, at all. It made him pause.

Did he have any right to pry for information so carefully guarded? Would he, had he known anything about himself, talked willingly about his own experiences and past mistakes?

_Most certainly not._

“It is nothing”, he offered, watching almost pleased as her shoulders lost a fraction of the tension coursing through them. This wasn’t beneficial to him, not in the slightest – he needed the information she possessed, needed it badly indeed. Which was exactly why he had to back down for now.

She needed to tell him of her own volition, and by Sa, he would make her do so.


End file.
